Judea High School: The Judas Chronicles, Vol 1
by TrenchcoatsAreSexy
Summary: AU. Judas, Jesus, and the others are students at Judea High School, located near Nazareth, PA. And you thought freshman year was hard enough!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Introductions

We lived in Nazareth. Nazareth, Pennsylvania, in the absolute middle of nowhere, as far as I was concerned. What were we close to? Bethlehem. The only thing in Bethlehem was a whole lot of steel. And Allentown. Besides having a nice theme park, its claim to fame was having a bad song written about it.

I was fourteen in 2002. My sister Hannah was fifteen, and my little sister Jadie was twelve. My parents were… however old they were.

Hannah was blonde, pretty, and the exact opposite of what I was. (With good reason, since long blonde, perfectly permed hair would look rather bizarre on a boy). I had short, dark hair, barely reaching my ears and never staying straight until I attacked it several time with a comb. Hannah was always talking, smugly secure in all that she did, whereas I was awkward, sometimes shy and sometimes sarcastic, angry and obnoxious. Yes, Hannah and I were as different as night and day – and my parents realized it… Of course. Parents seem to realize those things, I guess.

My mother, Amelia, was a secretary in Rosen, Stein, Hindel & Sanchez, the law firm where my father, Simon, worked as a lawyer. Yet we weren't super-rich or anything like that. We just… were.

Hannah's full name was Hannah Tiffany Iscariot. I had always made a point of curling up my nose at my parents' naming choice. I mean – TIFFANY! What? However, she, being Hannah, loved it, always confidently snapping, "My name is Hannah T. Iscariot."

My full name, on the other hand, was Judas Dylan Iscariot. I remember hissing and protesting, when younger, that "no one is named Judas anymore". My best friend's mother, however, liked the name and named one of her sons it. He goes by Jude.

Now, I've talked none about my younger sister, Jadie, so I will now. Jadie's full name was Jadeline Nefara Iscariot. The Nefara has an interesting story behind it. We moved to Nazareth when I was five, and before that, we lived in Kerioth. This was (obviously) before we moved to Nazareth. We had a rather eccentric neighbor, who suggested my parents give Jadie the middle name "Nefarious". They then gave her the middle name "Nefara". My parents are too open to suggestion.

They can also get rather angry if hexed. For example, one day in the summer before I started at Judea High School, I was rinsing plates. The plates had been labeled as "Unbreakable". I was getting a kick out of this, and planned to figure out whether or not this was true. While I was debating on whether or not to throw one of the little cups on the floor to see what happened, a knock came on the door. I walked to it and beheld the face of my friend and neighbor, Joshua bar-Joseph.

Since Joshua was a very common name around here, he went by the rather odd nickname "Jesus" (apparently it's the Greek version or something, but don't quote me.) He lived next door to us, and his cousin John lived across the street. Jesus had six brothers and sisters (it was his mother who had named one of her sons Judas). He was tall, and lanky, with straight black hair, and he wore glasses. He had been born in Bethlehem (steel country) and according to rumor was supposed to be some kind of God, or Son of God or something along those lines. I didn't really like to ask him about it, because it's one of those things that just doesn't come up in conversation that often.

"Judas," he said simply, grinning a sweet smile and leaning on my railing.

"Hey, Jesus," I said, showing him the plate in my hand, "My mom bought these. They're supposed to be 'unbreakable'." As Jesus opened his mouth to protest, I flung the plate on the ground and watched as it didn't break. However, it DID bounce, and shot into the metal of the refrigerator and smashed into what seemed like a million pieces. Jesus' mouth continued to gape as, with a flinching look coming across his face, he pointed to the back of me. Behind me was my mother – and she began to run in my direction as I flung open the screen door, piled on top of Jesus and began motoring down the rock road.

We rocketed down the alley of King's Cross (which is the name of the street we lived on); well, I rocketed and Jesus was being propelled by my motions.

"Can I come over your house?" I implored desperately. He sighed.

"Of course…" And we made our way to the back of his house. He opened up his back door, and we were greeted by the sound of his two younger sisters, Kristina and Elizabeth, singing:

"Tic tac toe, three in a row,

Barney got shot by a G.I. Joe,

Momma called the doctor and the doctor said…

Whoops! Barney's dead!

Got shot in the head!"

Another girl, who, if I remembered correctly, was a friend of Kristina's, added in:

"The cow in the pasture goes moo,

The cow in the pasture goes moo,

The farmer hits him on the head and grinds him up

And that's how we get hamburgers!"

"Oh, hi, Judas," said Kristina, giggling, "We're just singing strange antisocial songs."

"What else is new?" Jesus joked.

"What's new with you, Judas?" Kristina asked. She was a pretty thirteen-year-old with curly black hair and dazzling hazel eyes. She was a goth.

"Not much. I got in trouble."

"What else is new?" echoed Kristina.

So began another insanity-filled year of being Judas Iscariot… Now ready to attack high school.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

First Day at JHS

School began on September 5th. The first day of school, in Judea School District, is similar to a turf war. The reason why is because of the Romans.

Romans don't really belong here. They're just here. They've been here since before we could ever really remember, and they'll probably be here long after we're dead and gone or at least senile old farts thinking our grandchildren are our children and our children are our wives or siblings.

I began dealing with Romans in school in the seventh grade. Before that, I went to Nazareth Elementary, and since there are no Romans in Nazareth the only time we saw them was in banks and stores and places like that. And you can't really TELL a Roman just by looking at them. Sure, they're a bit tanner than we are, and they wear slightly different clothing, but a lot of that has basically become rather popular and mainstream among any of us that yelling, "HEY! ROMAN!" would not only look stupid and probably get you a black eye, in one in two cases you could be wrong.

Anyway, the way you can tell a Roman is by their name. All Roman guys have names like "Claudius Fakius" or "Thommius Lindius" and the girls have names like "Carria Lennia". Though, this had gotten to be hard, too, as many Romans were changing their names to things easier to say and less pretentious sounding.

But I've gotten very far off the subject. The first day of school was a big Us vs. Them war, as usual. I walked by the front of Judea High School and strode inside, hoping to avoid the confrontations that always occurred. Last year, at Galilee West Middle, a friend of an enemy ended up getting into a fist-fight with four Romans. He, predictably, lost. What kind of an idiot takes on four Romans? I mean, come on. Common sense needs to prevail in some cases. But as someone once said, "The thing about common sense is, it's not that common."

As I walked inside, Jesus met up with me, tailed by our other friends - his cousin John, Simon Zealotes, and Simon Peter.

John was a troublemaker. He was, although in a 10th grade homeroom, a "tweener". "Tweeners" were people who were in between grades - in this case, he was a 10th grader talking 9th grade English because last year he didn't like the teacher and refused to go for an entire semester. It was in the middle of the day (3rd block), so what he did was, after the first week, went to every lunch. First, he went to his assigned A Lunch, after which he attended B Lunch, C Lunch, and D Lunch before going to fourth block. It's a wonder the teachers didn't notice (or maybe didn't care), but it's also a wonder that he didn't need Weight Watchers after the semester was over from eating all those lunches.

According to the Son-of-God myth/rumor/situation, John was supposed to be the one to "plow the field for the Messiah". If you were ever to miss this point, do not be alarmed, as he thought it was the coolest thing ever and repeated it _ad nauseum_. From this, he got his nickname "The Baptist", which no one called him but himself.

Simon Zealotes' claim to fame was his hatred of Romans. Although Jesus told him as often as possible that racism was wrong and he shouldn't paint all Romans with the same brush, he simply replied that Romans did the same to us. Being around the two of them equaled many "two wrongs don't make a right" lectures. Simon also enjoyed fighting. He got into a fight every two weeks, at least. He attempted to get into the Guinness Book of World Records once. Some boxer beat him out and he was pissed off for a few months.

Simon Peter, called Peter because Simon Zealotes couldn't really be called Zealotes, was more of a hanger-on than anything else. Sure, he was a friend of ours, but for most of our situations he ran as soon as there was any trouble. I didn't like him very much but put up with him because he sucked up to Jesus. Better a suck-up than trying to kick our asses, I thought.

On this, the first day of ninth grade, we were checking out who was back and who wasn't. Peter was wondering whether or not the popularity scale would shift from middle school. I could really care less about popularity, but I noted that the popular ninth grade girls had better watch out for my sister and her crew - they were hard to fathom.

It was also, I remembered Hannah telling me, the day they would decide who got into cheerleading. Tryouts had been held over the summer. Hannah was the captain.

Popularity at Judea High School was set-up in this fashion - the most popular kids were the Romans, no doubt. However, some of us (such as Hannah), if gaining Roman favor, could sometimes surpass the Roman popularity vortex. Then there were the people who weren't Jews OR Romans - foreigners, basically. They fit in wherever they fit in.

All of us carried our schedules that we had received in the mail - here at Judea High School we had a "block schedule" as we had in middle school - four classes at an hour and a half each. Due to the fact that Jesus and I were both honor students, we had English and History together. I was just a College Prep student in Math - I was horrid at IMP, the bastard child of Math and English. We'd had it in middle school, and though Jesus got a B - his first B EVER... His mother nearly freaked... I got a D+. I sincerely hoped my report card had been burned in a freak accident.

"Hey, Iscariot," said a voice. I turned in annoyance (and somewhat terror) to the figure of Joseph Caiaphas, Jesus' and my arch-nemesis. Smirking, the stocky, tall, brown-haired rich-kid son-of-a-High-Priest put his lips next to my ear. "Jude-ASS."

I felt my face heat up and thought angrily, "Thanks, Mom. As if naming me some long-gone name wasn't bad enough, you've got to give me one that can be easily smirked at. Judas Maccabees never had this trouble, probably on account that there were completely different Hebrew words for such things."

"Back off, Caiap-ASS," said Simon, stepping forward to get into Caiaphas' face. Jesus held up his hands and told Simon to let it go.

"Fuck no, I'm not letting it go!" Simon yelled back, and began to flail his arms in Caiaphas' direction, though they weren't going anywhere because Jesus and Peter were holding him back, pulling him through the doors of the lobby and, somehow, up the stairs, where they put him down. "You should have let me at him!" he hissed.

"Pick your battles," Jesus responded, "It's the first day of school. Calm down, please." He pulled his schedule out of his pocket and cleared his throat. "First block, I have... English, with a Mr. M. Head." John snickered.

"I've got the same guy," John said.

"So do I," I chimed, "What luck."

"Who the hell says 'what luck'?" snorted Simon. Jesus, who hadn't quite forgiven Simon for making him carry a kicking, screaming figure up the steps, shot him a "please quit the profanity look", which Simon obviously ignored. I shrugged and Simon said, "Yeah, I got the Head guy too."

"That makes all of us except Peter," I said.

"I've got College Prep," he replied. The high school had three levels - Honors was like Albert Einstein, College Prep was like, uh, the guy who wrote Star Trek, and Applied was George W. Bush on a really bad day. Jesus was in Honors (duh); in fact, he'd skipped fourth grade and so was only thirteen. He was probably the youngest guy in school!

When we finally got to English class, it was the same first day alphabetical-order seating stuff.

"Uh, do we have an, um, Annas?"

"Yes," spoke up a voice, the voice of Caiaphas' friend Annas.

"I don't see a first name on here... Or is it a last name?"

"My name is just Annas," he replied, "My parents were rather uncreative and decided to decline on bestowing upon me a given name. I'm supposed to choose on for myself when I turn eighteen."

"What are you going to choose?" a girl asked.

"I'm not sure. I used to be sure I wanted to be named after a prophet - "

"EVERYONE'S named after a prophet nowadays!" complained John, "Be original!"

"Yeah, now I'm not so sure."

"Well, when you decide, please tell us, Mr. Annas."

"I will."

"Okay... Next... Joshua Barabbas?" There was some snickering from the Romans as Joshua Barabbas, known to us just as "Barabbas" approached his seat. He was a dark-haired, gloomy boy with brown eyes and a permanent look of anger upon his face. If there ever were a "most likely to take a life" poll at Judea High, he would win it hands down... Although Elijah Compton's driving was apparently horrendous.

"Joshua bar-Joseph?" That was Jesus.

"Now, how do we tell you two apart?" As if it weren't extremely obvious. I liked Mr. Head, though, he seemed nice. Nicer than my English teacher last year, at least. She once called me into her office to yell at me for the way I laughed. Claudia Procula said she had been banned from discussing Phil Collins when she had the same teacher in 6th grade at Caesarea Elementary.

"Um, I'm called Jesus and he's... usually called Barabbas? I think?" Jesus tried to ask the questions in an inviting tone, but Barabbas glared. Finally, Barabbas nodded and Mr. Head went on.

"Lydia bas-Nathan?" A somewhat pretty girl walked up and took her seat.

"Rachel bas-Nathan?" Along with her twin sister... The next row began.

"Meghan Blanchard?" A blonde haired girl skipped down the aisle.

"Agrippina Blair?" There was a loud THUMP! as a smirking Roman girl walked over to her desk and shoved off the books of Mary Magdalene, who apparently wasn't moving fast enough. "Aggie" as she was known to her friends (what few she had - one of them was my sister) gave a "seductive" look at the rest of the class, though from my point of view it was just disgusting.

"Julia Blair?" Julia Blair was, if anything, even more evil than Aggie. Julia was known around the parts for being cruel, slutty, and just plain nasty. She was the kind of girl who hit on other girls' boyfriends just to provoke a fight, at which time she would run crying back to an ally, who would help her blame it on the victim. It was rather disturbing and calculated for a 14-year-old. Julia made a point to trip Mary as she found another seat. Jesus gave Julia a glare, to which she responded with a mocking glance.

"Joseph Caiaphas?" Caiaphas took his seat with a pompous look, but at least he didn't do anything while Simon moved - I guess that after the morning's altercation he didn't wish to risk it.

"Fay Cardin?" A very attractive Roman girl took her seat behind Caiaphas. The next row began.

"Andrea Carver?" Caiaphas' day was certainly looking up. Another attractive Roman female near him.

"Bridget Harper?" Up walked a girl who looked straight out of _Clueless_. "Like, oh my God! Like, like, like HI ANDY!"

"Like, like, like, HI BRIDGET!" yelped Andrea back.

"Judas Iscariot?" I silently screamed, "NO, please don't put me with the Roman preppies, I regret what I just said..." But I walked, like a lamb to the slaughterhouse, to my seat. Also, there was the fact that I was next to Julia.

"Jude-ASS... What's happening, bro?" she cracked. I shot her a death glare that didn't seem to penetrate.

"Mary Magdalene?" She shuffled over behind me. Oh well, at least she seemed somewhat civil. Although she WAS trying out for cheerleading.

"Pontius Pilate?" Pilate was quite possibly the most influential person in the entire school. He was the son of the governor, fated to go into politics himself. He also had a personality vortex similar to that of John Ashcroft, but I was forgiving.

"Pilate, please." Mr. Head nodded and wrote down. Caiaphas added that he wished to be called by his last name, as well. In Caiaphas' case, only his parents and girlfriend ever called him "Joseph", and in Pilate's case even they called him Pilate. Once I overheard him explaining that Pontius was an old family name that almost every male relative of his had (his father was Lucius, but his uncle, grandfather, and great-grandfather were all Pontius), and it just wasn't normal to respond to a name like that.

"Claudia Procula?" The next row had begun and Claudia gave a look of mourning at being separated from Pilate, who was her boyfriend. No one knew how long they'd be dating, but it was well-known that Pilate was Claudia's first boyfriend. She was a dark-haired Roman girl who wore glasses that everyone called "coke-bottle" (though I don't know if there is an official "coke-bottle" width), due to the fact that she had crossed eyes. Julia wasted no time in pointing this out every time she spoke: her main targets were Claudia, Mary, and Jesus, and had been since seventh grade. It was quite harrowing. Moving back to Claudia: she also had hazel eyes, was short (about 5"1 1/2) and thin. She was one of the only Romans who associated with our group at all - I remember in middle school, she saw Jesus and I in line and said, "Nice glasses" to Jesus. Now, everyone had been mockingly commenting on his glasses all day - he'd gotten them before school started to correct a lazy eye - and he'd appreciated the comment immensely. Since then, I made a point to be nice to the girl - even if she WAS a Roman.

Claudia stumbled over into her chair as Julia stuck her tongue out in one of her usual classy maneuvers. Claudia hissed, "Fuck you" and flipped her off.

"Why don'tcha try and look at me, next time, CLAW-ja?" Julia made a point of purposely mispronouncing Claudia's name, like it bothered her. Claudia didn't seem to care much, and pulled out a newspaper. The headline read: "**NEW FILM CAUSES CONTROVERSY!**," and the photo under it showed a 1st century figure in an outfit reminiscent of The Ten Commandments.

"Drusilla Taton?" A pretty, tall, African-American girl sat down and began to roll her pencils up and down her desk. Simon, who was standing by her desk, began to try and chat her up.

"Hi! Erm, you're a Roman?" he asked.

"Half," she replied nonchalantly and continued her pencil rolling.

"Antonia Thomas?"

"That's Antonia Claudia Thomas," responded one of Julia's crew, "I shall be called only that." I rolled my eyes noticeably at Jesus. He shrugged.

"Simon Zealotes?" Simon strutted over to his seat.

"Did I miss anyone? Who are you?" he asked John, who had been scoping out Bridget's posterior region as well as her, erm, breasterior region.

"Arm!" he said, the great combination between "Erm!" and "AH!" He took a breath and said, "I'm John bar-Zacharias. I'm a sophomore."

"Okay, we'll sit you behind Simon." John was happy, getting to sit in the back and hopefully throw spitballs and Julia and Caiaphas. But at the moment, Caiaphas wasn't looking too bad - he was actually CONVERSING with Jesus!

This was going to be an interesting year.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Truces & Talent

It turned out that Caiaphas and Jesus had been exchanging 1st century C. E. religious trivia - being that Caiaphas was the son of Judea's High Priest, and Jesus was possibly the Son of God, both had to know these things. When lunch rolled around and Caiaphas and Annas actually sat with us, I knew it was quite a change. Caiaphas also brought along his flavor-of-the-week girlfriend, Bridget Harper, and some of the newly elected cheerleading squad. The list, which I'd seen passed around all through Miss Elliman's second block College Prep IMP II class, read:

_Thanks everyone for trying out! The new cheerleaders for the 2003-2004 year ARE:_

_Agrippina Blair_

_Julia Blair - CAPTAIN_

_Amy Carrigan_

_Pike Chesley_

_Pilar Chesley_

_Bridget Harper_

_Hannah Iscariot - CAPTAIN_

_Mary Magdalene_

_Antonia Claudia Thomas_

They all sat with us, except for Julia and Aggie who never liked Caiaphas much away, for the Roman-supremacy reason I gave you beforehand.

"So," Hannah was saying (it was obvious to everyone that she was infatuated with Caiaphas), "What position did you get?" Hearing only this, I choked on my pretzel for a few seconds before being revived by Simon, who believed the Heimlich involved punching me in the stomach. Hannah gave me a look that stated, "typical", and continued, "Linebacker? Safety? Quarterback? Center? Guard? Wide receiver?"

"Fullback," Caiaphas replied, poking suspiciously at his pizza. "What's wrong with the food in this school, anyway?"

"Biohazard," John replied.

"Why don't you eat a hot dog?" questioned Amy, a pretty blonde haired Irish girl, "You can't mess up a hot dog."

"Is it a beef hot dog?" asked Simon.

"Oh... right," even in the midst of her cultural _faux pas_, Amy's eyes gleamed as bright as the sun. I was enamored. More beautiful than the Venus de Milo... Especially since Amy had arms.

"So, has anyone heard about the talent show?" asked Hannah.

"I'm considering entering," said Amy.

"So am I," said Mary.

"Erm... So are we!" I chirped.

"Who's we?" asked Hannah with suspicion in her eyes.

"Uh, me and Jesus... and Simon and John..."

"When was this decided?" asked John.

"Don't you remember?" I said angrily.

"Well, maybe we can work together," bubbled Amy, "And Mary too. It'd be great. What about you, Hannah?"

"No thanks," she scoffed, "I get enough of Judas at home."

"Oh, I don't knoooow, Hannah," snorted Antonia Claudia.

And so it was decided. The talent show was the way that I, Judas Iscariot, would convince Amy Carrigan to fall in love with me. The only problem was actually getting permission to be IN the talent show.

And quite a problem it was, for it involved going to our principal, Mr. Herod Antipas.

Principal Herod, as he was known behind his back, was the last person you'd think would be allowed to run a school. He by all accounts did not care what went on as long as he received his daily paycheck. He was not above yelling, "ERRRM... WOMAAAAN!" at attractive female teachers. We would be better off with a Roman. I think we'd be better off with SATAN.

Herod has to approve all talent show acts. Jesus, John, Simon, Mary, Amy and I had, after much debate, decided to perform the Queen song "Bohemian Rhapsody." You can't go wrong with Queen, right?

Wrong.

"I don't think I can allow you to perform this song, children." He always referred to us as "children". "It was written by an open homosexual - "

"Forgive me, Principal Antipas, but you're mistaken," Jesus piped up, "Mr. Mercury kept his orientation secret from the public his entire life."

"Listen, God-boy, you're the last person to know anything about the world!" Jesus blinked. See, the thing is, whereas the rest of us would consider jumping over the desk and strangling Herod, it seemed that these thoughts just didn't occur to Jesus. He just... blinked.

"And what does this have to do with the song, anyway?" John snapped.

"Now, the song, the song, the song..." Herod rustled through a stack of papers and pulled one out. "This song refers to murder, sex and violence, as well as false religion!"

"What?" I asked.

"Do I really have to repeat it, Mr. Iscariot? Not that we should really put you on stage, anyway, on account of what might happen..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Simon snapped.

"Oh, I think you know," Herod said simply and, pushing us out, closed the door.

"And when I watched all those episodes of _Joan of Arcadia_, I believed principals that evil didn't exist," said John.

"What was he talking about, Judas?" asked Amy, "Not wanting to put you on stage?"

"It's not important," I muttered, "The fact is that we're going to do this song whether Herod the ASSHOLE likes it or not." I was fuming, about ready to burst into the room and bash his head in with a statue a la _The Brothers Karamozov_.

At that point we crashed into Claudia Procula and Pontius Pilate.

"Hi!" said Claudia, "Where are you guys coming from?"

"Herod's office," I replied.

"Signing up for the talent show?"

"We tried," sighed John, "He won't let us do a Queen song for some stupid reasons... Inappropriate or something."

"I just saw Julia saying that she's going to do 'The Bad Touch' by The Bloodhound Gang!" said Pilate. Pilate rarely spoke, so when he did you knew he must have done a lot of thinking about it beforehand. It's the way politicians work.

"It's this Roman-supremacy shit again!" Simon snapped, "No offense, Pilate and Claudia..."

"None taken. This is fucked up! Listen, why don't we sign up, and when we come up, you guys just do yours? And have a speech beforehand about how you couldn't do it! It's pure gold!"

"I don't know," said Jesus, "Isn't that dishonesty?"

"It's not dishonesty!" I said, "It's speaking out against oppression!"

"Well, I guess I can get behind speaking out against oppression..."

"Of course you can."

"Amy," I said to her one day after school, "How would you like, maybe, going to the mall this weekend?"

"Oh, I'd love to. Like a date?"

"Yeah," I said, not believing my luck.

"Oh... But I've got plans with Mary... Maybe we could double-date?"

"Oh, uh, sure."

"Alrighty, just find a date for Mary and we're on!"

This proved to be no easy task. I thought of everyone I knew. Simon would get arrested, most likely. John wouldn't know how to act. Peter was barely allowed out of his house. Also, most people I knew had heard of the bad reputation Mary had.

"Mary Magdalene? She's a slut, dude," said Trevor Pollock, in my Physical Science class. "Don't wanna go out with her cos you don't know what you'd be bringing back."

"Mary Magdalene?" cut in Annas, "I don't know, she's alright, but her sister, I mean MAN."

"Who's her sister?" I asked.

"Martha!" Annas exclaimed, "Martha Magdalene! Girl's a nut!"

"What'd she do?" asked Trevor.

"Well, she went out with Caiaphas in eighth grade. They were an okay couple, you know, until one day Martha saw Caiaphas with Bridget Harper at Pizza to Go, the one in Bethany."

"Ooh," said Trevor.

"They were in Chemistry Club together, so was I. Well, Caiaphas comes in the next day and Martha slaps him across the face! Then she rips his glasses off his head and breaks 'em!"

"Caiaphas had glasses?" I asked.

"They were reading glasses... Anyway, I guess they made up or whatever and then next week they're in Chemistry Club together again. She comes in, starts yelling at him that he didn't clean his glassware. Then she grabs his shirt and starts stretching it out. She also begins doing karate-kick-and-chop shit at him. Then she rips his glasses off his head again and bends them, but after last time he got new ones with bendable frames, so he laughed at her. She started smacking him and hitting him again, and he grabs the phone to, I don't know, call the cops or call the guy in charge of Chemistry Club or whatever - she RIPS IT OUT OF THE WALL and starts hitting him again.

She chases him into the adjacent lab and he grabs the phone there. She grabs it out of his hand and slams it down. She goes, 'I don't think so,' but I guess he'd already called 911. Ten minutes later eight police arrived. She was arrested, charged, and her family had to pay for the phone. But you wanna know something?"

"What?" I asked.

"That phone had just gotten replaced. She had ripped it out of the wall before."

"She didn't have to pay for the other one?"

"Guess not. And anyway, right after she gets carted away I turn to Caiaphas and go, 'I guess next time you'll clean your glassware.'"

"I'm just curious to know one thing," said Trevor.

"And that is?" Annas asked.

"If you were in Chemistry Club, how come when I cheat off your paper it always has the wrong answers?"

I finally got desperate and asked Jesus.

"Jesus... You're my friend, right?"

"Of course, Judas."

"Will you do me a favor?"

"Depends."

"Will you go on a date with Mary Magdalene?"

"Why?"

"Because I actually got Amy Carrigan to say yes to a date with me."

"Well why do you need me there?"

"Because it's a double date. I need a Number Two."

"I am not a number, I am a free man!" joked Jesus.

"Oh, come on, will you do it?"

"Sure, alright. When is it?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Chasing Amy

Palmer Park Mall was THE place to go for Judea High School students. Well, it was the ONLY place you could go without driving because the LANTA bus system was so incredibly confusing. It was seven miles from Nazareth, in Easton, and to get there you took the bus labeled S.

Palmer Park Mall was two floors, rather large but not anything to write home about. Amy, Jesus, Mary and I had plans to go see a new film called _The Butterfly Effect_, but we arrived early and decided to get something to eat. We stopped at a Chinese food place on the first floor. It was called China Moon. We approached the front desk and a young Asian girl of around our age took our order.

"Mia?" Jesus asked. I stared at him blankly. "Mia Yan?"

"Jesus bar-Joseph?" she said back.

"You're in my math class," he said. She smiled.

"I wasn't sure anyone noticed," she laughed.

"Everyone did," he replied. She grinned and asked what we would like.

"A pint of lobster fried rice," said Mary.

"A pint of vegetable fried rice," decided Amy.

"Two eggrolls," chose Jesus.

"Sweet and sour pork," I decided.

"I thought you didn't eat pork," Amy said.

"Oh, my family's not very Orthodox, we eat bacon for breakfast every day..." I explained. "You know, my father applied for a job at this one law firm, and, the lady who was interviewing him, she was really, really huge-fat, was going on about how she defended this food packaging plant, right?" The other nodded to show their attention. "And, well, she's saying," I did a really annoying voice, "'They were going to give me free samples, but, oh, I couldn't eat the bacon. I can't eat pork or shellfish, I just can't. And I don't eat meat out.' And my father is standing there like, 'Who cares?' and she keeps talking about it, right, and just on and on, and then two weeks later my dad finds out he didn't get the job, right? And it was that lady who called him, and he said, 'We know you ate the bacon. How else did you get so fat?' And hung up!"

"That's really mean, Judas!" Amy chided. Jesus nodded.

"Yeah, that's what my mom said. I thought it was pretty funny, though. My dad said he didn't want to work there anyway, he'd have to have a lock on his refrigerator so she couldn't get to it."

"So, anyway, what are you reading for Head's book report?" asked Mary. Jesus' eyes lit up. He shuffled into his backpack and proudly displayed three paperback books. I read off the titles.

"_Beyond Good and Evil_? _Twilight of the Idols_? _Thus Spoke Zar_...?"

"_Zarathustra_," Jesus finished, "Friedrich Nietzsche! The man was a genius."

"Jesus, somehow I'd think you to be the last man reading Nietzsche," I replied.

"Oh? Why? Must you agree with someone to believe they are a genius?"

I shrugged. Always with the philosophical comments.

"I heard on _Cram _that he had a big moustache," put in Amy.

"Yes, he did," said Jesus, "But only later on, really. The fact is, I can't decide. On which book to do the report on."

"Go with _Beyond Good and Evil_," I suggested, "That's what Kevin Kline's character was reading in _A Fish Called Wanda_."

"I will take your advice, Judas, thank you."

"Anytime."

"Wasn't Nietzsche a Nazi?" came a condescending, nasal voice.

"Three guesses and the first two don't count," I said, turning around towards the direction of the voice. It was Julia and Aggie Blair, aka the Blair Bitch Project.

"Oh, what-was-that, Judas the Jew?" said Julia.

"Tell me something I don't know. Why are you even here, anyway? Don't you have some prostitute party to be at?" I said coldly.

"If Nietzsche were a Nazi, why would Jesus be reading him?" spoke up Mary.

"Because you're STOO-pid!" said Aggie, tapping on Jesus' head with her finger, attempting to provoke him.

"Nietzsche was not," Jesus said simply, "And, if I may speak bluntly, it shows a lack of intelligence to, one, assume something because someone told you it, and, two, to harass people for no reason. Nietzsche, although very opposed to organized religion, as is obvious in his writings, felt that race hatred was, to quote, 'scabies of the heart.' Anti-Semites in particular he did not think highly of in the least. It was his sister, Elizabeth Förster-Nietzsche, who republished his writings with her own interpretations, which later became synonymous with the Nazi movement."

Julia and Aggie simply looked at each other. Julia swatted at me and they left in a huff.

"Wow, how'd you know all that?" Mary asked.

"Pays to read a lot..." He replied, shrugging. At that point, the food came and we dug in.

By the end of the date, I was sure that I had won - Amy would be my girlfriend definitely!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Judas and the Atrocities

The talent show was on a Saturday. It was held at Point Park Mall, because that's where everything around here was held. My groupmates and I nervously perfected our routine and waited in line after several annoying dance routines, and a bunch of poems involving death, darkness, and despair.

Jesus was in charge of the boombox, because he was best with electronics. He was best at everything, but, hell, he's the Messiah so that's not surprising.

"And now," drawled Principal Herod in a grating voice, "Pontius Pilate and Claudia Procula will sing us a song."

I was set to begin with a lead-in introduction, but as I walked up to the podium I couldn't remember what to say. So, as I leaned over the microphone, I said the following.

"You know, we weren't supposed to be in this talent show! You know why? Because we're not Romans, and you know what? Every person lets Romans get away with everything and treat us as second-class citizens! It's not fair! It's an ATROCITY! An ATROCITY I tell you!"

At that point, they took the microphone away from me. "This isn't an open forum!" the woman hissed.

The words I had regretted the second they came out of my mouth. As our group descended the stairs, all I could think was that everyone was going to hate me, and I was going to be in so much shit with my parents, my friends, and most of all the Judea High School administration. I was half-right.

Jesus was on the whole non-judging thing, simply telling me that he didn't think it was the greatest idea to say something like that. I agreed.

Simon and John became my new fan club.

"Wow, you gave those Romans what-for!" Simon said excitedly the second we were out of earshot. John nodded eagerly.

Caiaphas came by and sarcastically thanked me for setting back Jewish-Roman relations a hundred years. Simon said they weren't moving forward anyway.

Amy said she never wants to see me again.

As for my parents...

"JUDAS!" I heard as soon as I got home. Oh, crap.

"Uh, yes?" I managed. My mother stopped into the room.

"WHAT did you do? Can I leave you alone for a MINUTE without you doing something to tarnish the reputation of the Iscariot family?" I didn't know the Iscariot family really HAD a reputation. What is this, _Gone with the Wind_?

"It just kinda happened," I said.

"And NOW I have your school on my phone, telling me they want you to come in for therapy."

I now looked like President George W. Bush did in the first debate against Senator John Kerry.

"THERAPY!"

"Yes. And you're going."

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"You're going."

"Am not!"

"Judas Dylan Iscariot, don't you talk back to me. You're going."

"But I'm not crazy! I just blurted something out!"

"And maybe after this you will learn to CONTROL YOUR MOUTH! In the meantime, you're grounded, no TV, no music, no video games, no ANYTHING. I'm ashamed at your mouth."

"Aren't you overreacting?"

"When YOU'RE the parent, you can tell me I'm overreacting! I care about my family! Thank GOD Hannah never did ANYTHING like this!"

Oh yes, the wonderful perfect Hannah. Gag me with a monkey wrench, someone, please.

"In case you haven't been informed," I grumbled in vain, "I'm not an abbott, and Hannah's no saint."

"At least we NEVER get phone calls from HER school," my mother replied.

"No, just phone calls from Planned Parenthood," I mumbled.

"WHAT!"

"I didn't say anything."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

How Does That Make You Feel?

My first day of oh-so-delightful school therapy began on Monday. I entered a large conference room, feeling like Robert E. Lee must have felt when he surrendered in the Civil War. Except for I don't have any slaves (and I don't believe in that stuff at all) and Robert E. Lee didn't have to go to fricking school therapy. But the parallel was there originally, anyway.

Three girls and two guys were seated in the cushioned gray chairs that were positioned around the conference table. They were talking to each other, probably just as reluctant to come here as I was. I wonder what they did to deserve this.

In walked two women - one was a perky, blonde-haired lady, and the other was a younger brunette woman who was kind of chubby.

"HI, EVERYONE!" the perky blonde-haired lady said, "We have a NEW FRIEND with us today! His name is Judas! Everyone say, 'Hi, Judas!'" Very unenthusiastically, they complied.

I groaned.

"So, Judas," she continued, "Tell us why you're here!"

"Because Principal Herod forced me to go," I groaned.

"Same here," chorused the girls.

"Yep," said the first guy. The second simply grunted.

"Now, that's not true, tell us what flaw that you have that got OUT OF CONTROL! That you ended up here." The woman began to do spurious hand motions to accompany every single word.

"More like YOUR flaws that you are telling us this," grumbled the one girl, "I'm Jeanette by the way."

"Now, Jeanette, you were sent here because you were DEPRESSED! Isn't that right?"

"Going to Judea, who wouldn't be?" she replied.

"Now, now, that's no way to think!" the woman said, cocking her head to the side and giving an incredibly disturbing grin. The whole thing was starting to remind me of Silence of the Lambs, and I was getting extraordinarily freaked out.

"Yes, it is, because it's true," snapped Jeanette.

"You're in denial," the woman shot back, "And I think we need to have a GROUP DISCUSSION ABOUT THIS! Does everyone agree?" Everyone groaned loudly and audibly, myself included. "Come on, everyone, I know you have little mouths that like to speaky-speak! Aren't I right?"

"They don't want to SPEAKY-SPEAK to you," shot a short, chubby African-American girl.

"Tabitha, Tabitha, Tabitha," said the brunette woman, "You have such an ANGER problem."

"You are goddamned right," Tabitha replied, throwing the lady a sarcastic thumbs-up. "At least you figured SOMETHING out right! Aren't we proud, ladies and gentlemen? Just because I don't like preppy bitches, you think I have an 'anger' problem."

"Now," the blonde lady interrupted, "I'm from BOSTON, and if I didn't KNOW any better..."

"Which," Tabitha replied, "Ya don't."

"I take offense at that."

"That was entirely the point."

Shoot me, I thought, shoot me.

Finally, after a wrenching forty-five minutes, I was free. I had never run to World Cultures (my fourth block class which I was plucked out of to go to group therapy) with so much vigor ever before.

"Whoa, so, Judas, what's your damage?" asked Simon as I took my seat next to him.

"I want to die. I want to stab myself in the face," I replied.

"So, not too fun, eh? Damned Romans!" Simon replied angrily. Several Romans turned around and glared at him. "What are YOU lookin' at?"

"It was evil. I have never seen anyone so PERKY in my entire life."

"It's okay. Do you want some Zoloft?" he replied, "You know the commercial. It has the bouncing pillow."

"I'd like to bounce this entire school off the face of the Earth."

"Well, I can see where you're coming from there."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Homecoming

Now it was October. The trees had begun to turn an orange-y tan, and I had been managing to skip out of quite a few of the therapy sessions for "academic reasons". Hopefully, sooner or later they would get off my ass, at least I hoped.

The school began to bubble over with Homecoming fervor. We were set to play Jerusalem High, our arch-rival, and so everyone was extraordinarily excited about the possibility of actually BEATING them this year.

There was also a huge rush over who was going to win Homecoming King and Queen. I really could not care less, but Hannah was obsessed. This was why I woke up on October 10th with her about an inch from my face.

"JUDAS! Who do you think will win?"

"GOD!" I screamed, "Hannah, why are you IN MY ROOM!" I immediately jumped up and hurled the nearest object – a pillow – in her direction.

"Well, SORRY, JUDAS, but I was just asking a question. I was TRYING to be NICE."

"Yeah, well, next time save the questions until after I wake up, okay, Hannah?" I shot back, "And for your information, I have no clue what you're talking about."

She tsk-tsked me, as if I was a six-year-old asking a stupid question.

"Judas, you know what I mean. Homecoming King and Queen. Do you think I'll win?"

"Well," I groaned, "since you're a sophomore, you won't have to out-evil the Blairs. I think you're a shoo-in."

"REALLY?" she squealed.

"Yes. Now PLEASE GET OUT OF MY ROOM." I looked over at the clock and noted that it was 5AM. I screamed.

When I finally got Hannah away from my bed (it was all very traumatizing indeed, I'm telling you), I rushed downstairs, ate lunch, and went to go meet the guys at the corner. Since we didn't live terribly far from JHS, we'd developed a system of meeting each other on Parker Blvd., around the corner from King's Cross. Jesus, Simon, and John were already there, and Simon and John were apparently playing some kind of card game.

"Yeah, yay, we can finally get going," said Simon impatiently.

"Since when are YOU eager to get to school?" asked John, "Especially with all of this stupid Homecoming insanity."

"You do indeed have a point, but I'm bored. I'm looking to get into a fight with this one really annoying Roman in my third block class."

"That's nice," I replied, raising an eyebrow, "My sister woke me up at 5AM to ask me if I think she's going to win Homecoming Queen."

"Who's nominated for our grade?" asked Simon.

"Eh, the usual," I groaned, "Julia Blair, Pilar Chesley, Antonia Claudia whatever, and Mary Magdalene."

"Mary's nice," Jesus said.

"Yeah, 'cause you went on a date with her," I replied, rolling my eyes. Simon cat-called. Jesus shrugged.

"She's a nice girl," he said again.

"I'm sure she is," said John with a wink, "Let's get going." We started walking towards JHS.

"You guys, please don't talk about her that way," Jesus said sternly. I rolled my eyes, but we all shut up.

When we arrived at JHS, many people were running around, and the Student Council (headed by Pilate and Claudia) was decorating for Homecoming in the JHS colors of blue and gold. Hannah was already at school, handed out leaflets to most of the sophomores and giggling, "Vote Hannah!" eagerly.

This was going to be a long day.

Later that night, I signed on to AIM. I decided to make a chat.

_Iscariot88 has entered the room._

_BaptistPlaya has entered the room._

_DwnwithRme has entered the room._

_MessiahPower has entered the room._

**Iscariot88:** Hey what's up?

**BaptistPlaya:** Judas you need a more inventive screen name.

**Iscariot88:** yeh well… maybe you should come up w/ one for me…

**MessiahPower:** …..he came up with MINE, Judas.

**Iscariot88:** Eh, good point.

**DwnwithRme:** Did you hear! LANTA might be going on strike!

**MessiahPower:** Seriously?

**BaptistPlaya:** OH SHIT!

**MessiahPower:** …language?

**BaptistPlaya:** Sorry.

**Iscariot88:** LANTA CAN'T go on strike! I'll be stuck with HANNAH this weekend!

**MessiahPower:** You can come over my house.

**Iscariot88:** That works.

**DwnwithRme:** Hey, you guys. If Ben Franklin were alive today, what would he say?

**BaptistPlaya:** What?

**MessiahPower:** I don't know…

**Iscariot88:** What?

**DwnwithRme:** LEMME OUT! LEMME OUT!

**BaptistPlaya:** LMAO

**Iscariot88:** Bah, g2g

**MessiahPower:** Bye!

**DwnwithRme:** See ya.

**BaptistPlaya:** See ya.

_Iscariot88 has left the room._

Although I appreciated Jesus' offer, I couldn't just camp out over his house. Or maybe I could. I hoped I wasn't wearing out my welcome, but a weekend with Hannah was the most terrifying possibly I had ever considered. What was LANTA THINKING, going on strike at the one time I really needed them? I turned on the TV.

"LANTA has announced its intentions to strike in response to company refusal to pay for all of LANTA worker's health-care premiums. The companies have offered that LANTA pay five percent of their health-care premiums, but the workers do not want to pay any. Back to you, John."

"UGH!" I exclaimed aloud, "What assholes!" Unfortunately, my mother had apparently heard my outburst, and made her way into the computer room.

"Judas, what's wrong?" she inquired.

"Just these stupid LANTA," I grumbled, "They're on strike again."

"Well," said my mother, winking, "We could all drive out to Dorney Park."

"In October?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"It's still fairly hot out," she replied.

"Eh," I shrugged, "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll go over Jesus' and see if he's got anything planned."

"Well, you know, Judas, I'm always glad to see that you ended up with such a good friend." With that, she walked out. I blinked.

I guess maybe I'd never really thought of it that way before. I thought over her comments with a touch of annoyance, but also maybe a touch of realization. I mean, how long had Jesus and I been friends, anyway? Since we both moved to Nazareth, at least. That was a long time indeed. I knew I always had somebody I could come to about the stupidest crap, someone I could call up at 4AM in the morning if I had to – not that I would even ever be UP at 4AM in the morning, you'd have to be nuts.

Maybe, just maybe, I'd survive freshman year after all.

The actual Homecoming game was set for that Friday. Everyone was still busy raising money and doing weird things in order to celebrate. There would be a pep rally on Friday as well, which I was completely dreading.

"There is no way I want to see Hannah in action," I groaned, "Not to mention, seeing Amy again after that disaster of a crush."

"Well, you could skip the pep rally," suggested Simon.

"Skip a pep rally?" Peter said, rolling his eyes, "You'd get caught, and that would be stupid."

"Would they actually CHECK?" asked Simon incredulously, "I mean, it's all these idiots running around, right? Like they're going to find time to go, 'Hey, where's Judas Iscariot'?"

"Ugh, I guess I might as well go," I submitted, "Yay. Yay. Judea. Not."

"Well, who knows, we could win this year," Jesus said.

"Yeah. Right," chimed Simon, John, and I.

"Pessimism…" Jesus chided. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, tomorrow is Crazy Hat Day," said John.

"I see," said Jesus, raising an eyebrow, "What are you planning? I know you're planning something, so out with it."

"Well, actually I have something planned for Thursday – 'role reversal day'," John replied.

"Never mind!" Jesus interceded, "Forget I asked." I grinned.

"Anyway, so what is everyone doing this weekend? LANTA's on strike, so what are we to do?" I asked.

"We could go to the Dollar Store," Jesus suggested. I rolled my eyes. He had this thing about the Dollar Store. He was fascinated by it.

"All right," I acquiesced, "Then, want to rent a movie and go back to your house to play the Genesis?"

"That works," he replied, "Simon, Peter, John, you guys interested?"

"Yeah," Simon said.

"Me too," chimed John.

"Nah, I've got a wedding to go to," Peter said, "My cousin I've never met is marrying someone else I've never met."

"That's always exciting," I said.

The week went down to Friday without too much hassle. Whatever John had been planning for "role reversal" day, apparently either Jesus, his parents, or both talked him out of it. Now, it was the day of the big game. We were sitting in the "freshman" section, with a poster that stated, "Almost Heaven, Class of '07". (Yeah, it was kind of stupid. I think Caiaphas came up with it.) After a few moments, John had wandered over from the sophomore section ("Class of '06 is in the mix") and was sitting amongst us.

The cheerleaders were doing a routine as the announcers named each of the teams. The tennis team (to my surprise, Claudia was a member – who knew SHE had any athletic ability?), the soccer team, the volleyball team, the field hockey team (of which many of the cheerleaders were also members – gag), and of course the three football teams – freshman, JV, and varsity.

"And our new star on the freshman football team – number thirty-two – JOSEPH CAIAPHAS!" yelled the announcer. There were cheers from the cheerleaders and many members of the audience, and polite clapping from Jesus. I turned to my friend.

"You notice he has the same number as O.J. Simpson?" I said. Jesus looked at me. "What? He does!"

"And our 2006 Lady Centurion Cheerleaders, led by HANNAH ISCARIOT!"

"Who in the world named them the Centurions?" asked Peter.

"Romans," said Simon, rolling his eyes.

"So, we're set for Sunday, right?" I inquired.

"Definitely," Jesus said, "Just come over and ring the bell."

"That works," said Simon, "About noon or so?"

"That works," Jesus replied.

"Hey, they're dismissing people," John pointed out.

"FINALLY!" Simon exclaimed. When the teachers dismissed the freshman, we walked out and quickly went to our lockers. People were running up and down the hallways screaming the number of their graduating class, which was really so incredibly mature indeed.

Saturday was dreadfully boring, but since Jesus was stuck down at the temple I was pretty much screwed for companionship. I could have called up Simon or John, but John was probably with Jesus and I felt weird contacting Simon on my own.

And so I did the following: slept, ate, played Tetris, checked LiveJournal, did a survey, and twiddled my thumbs. I also laid on the couch and watched _Murder in Greenwich_, in which the guy who was supposed to be Mark Fuhrman looked absolutely nothing like him.

Then, it was Sunday. I woke up, ate, played a game of Final Fantasy against Jadie, and then headed down to Jesus' house. It was weird, I had a PlayStation, but I always ended up going over Jesus' and playing the Sega Genesis. I guess I had a taste for the retro or something.

I walked up and rang the doorbell. Kristina came to the door.

"Judas?" she inquired.

"Hey, Kristina. Is Jesus home?"

"Yeah," Kristina said, opening the door and motioning for me to come inside, "He's upstairs." I made my way up to Jesus' room and knocked on the door.

"Hey, Judas," he said, quickly standing up and walking over to me. "Simon and John should be over soon. Do you want a Coke or anything?"

"Nah, I'm fine," I replied, "Can we play a game of Columns?"

"Sure!" He plugged in the Genesis and handed me a controller. He, as usual, won each time. Soon after our third game, the door rang and Simon and John made their way in.

"The FUUUUN has arrived," sang John.

"Oh, thank you for quoting _Tarzan_," dead-panned Simon.

"So, we're going to the Dollar Store, right?" I asked, shrugging. I would rather get outside after a day of sitting around doing nothing.

"Yeah, let's go," Jesus replied, "Let me just get my jacket."

And so we walked down to the Dollar Store and began examining all the weird things that it sells that, on the whole, no one would want even if they were paid to buy them. Simon and John, upon walking inside, immediately began an imitation Nerf-football fight. After about five minutes, this got all of us kicked out of the store, but it was fairly amusing while it lasted. Jesus was left to apologize for them while the rest of us were swatted out the door by cashiers carrying feather-dusters and window-blinds.

And then we went home. I think that was the most successful day in October, possibly in the entire school year.


End file.
